


What is love and how do I make it stop

by kusokawaii



Category: Cookie Run (Video Game)
Genre: Drunken Flirting, Excessive Drinking, F/F, First Love, Flirting, Fluff, Hangover, Love Confessions, Love at First Sight, Pining, Secret Admirer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-27
Updated: 2019-05-27
Packaged: 2020-03-20 03:24:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,842
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18984247
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kusokawaii/pseuds/kusokawaii
Summary: Pistachio Cookie has been given a sacred mission to pursue — and pursue it she does, at every possible moment.But one day, her eyes that normally scan for signs of danger, catch sight of a new arrival — White Choco Cookie.Try as she might, she can't take her eyes off of the skilled Cookie, watching right along with her fans. But before their eyes can meet, Pistachio dashes away — only to return every day that White Choco trains.Before she knows it, she can't stop thinking about the blonde Cookie.Pistachio is at a loss. Can love and a sacred mission be compatible...?[ForJuniper~!]





	What is love and how do I make it stop

**Author's Note:**

> I never thought I'd be writing about cookies, but here I am.  
> I wrote this for my dear friend Juniper, who introduced me to Cookie Run: Ovenbreak earlier this year (and gave me the prompt for this fic) - it's a super fun game, with loads of cute and unique Cookie characters. I considered writing them as humans in this fic, but I decided to try writing them as cookies first... and it worked out better than I expected.
> 
> This ended up being a lot of fun to write, so I hope you'll enjoy it too!
> 
> Special thanks to [coolangelsthesis](https://archiveofourown.org/users/coolangelsthesis/pseuds/coolangelsthesis) for beta-reading for me!!

Pistachio Cookie took her work very seriously. Hers was a sacred mission, after all — every moment spent in pursuit of it was downright divine. Even seemingly mundane moments like this, patrolling the training grounds to ensure nothing or no one would interfere with the safety of her fellow Cookies as they honed their skills.  
  
A loud cheer rising up from nearby caught her attention. She hastened her steps, and soon a sizable crowd came into view, watching the training of… some Cookie.  
  
She stopped, and got a better look. _Ah, that’s right. That’s White Choco,_ she thought.  
  
White Choco Cookie had arrived to their group not long ago, their only exchange so far having been the courteous greeting they shared upon her introduction. She hadn’t yet seen for herself what their new ally could do.  
  
_I mustn’t gawk,_ she scolded herself. _I have work to do.  
  
_Another hearty squeal rose from the gathered, mostly-female crowd, though Pistachio’s eyes weren’t on them — they had landed on the form of White Choco, who was running and jumping with a grace that would be well-described as _elegant,_ her fencing sword stretched outward and boldly sweeping aside obstacles in her path without a shred of hesitation or fear.  
  
Pistachio blinked, but still couldn’t take her eyes off the blonde Cookie. _Well… I should stay to make sure the crowd remains civil,_ she justified to herself.  
  
She ended up staying until White Choco’s training session ended. As she turned to her gathered fans tossing single roses and whole bouquets of flowers to her, Pistachio strode quickly out of sight, feeling her face heating up.  
  
Her patrol days from there onward played out much the same — though, with a slight alteration. Knowing how large the crowd that would come to watch White Choco’s training often was, Pistachio timed her patrol route just right so she would come by that area just as White Choco’s training for the day was about to begin.  
  
Yes, that was the reason.  
  
But time after time, her gaze would remain locked on White Choco’s performance alone, and time after time again, she dashed away after the other Cookie’s training ended — though she wasn’t sure why. Something about watching her hypnotized Pistachio, and when it ended she was left with a warmth in her face and a fluttering in her chest, and a near-desperate need not to be seen at that moment.  
  
Worse still, even the times when she wasn’t watching White Choco, the Cookie would still find a way into her thoughts — and her dreams. One night, her dream-self bravely stepped out onto the field where White Choco had been training, reached out for the Cookie’s hand, and, clasping it warmly, leaned in for a kiss.  
  
Pistachio awoke with a gasp, bolting upright as her eyes flew open, quickly realizing that it was indeed a dream. Her hand went to her chest, holding it there as she breathed deeply, in the hopes of quelling the rapid fluttering she felt within.  
  
Calmed somewhat, she fell back upon her pillow with a sigh and a frown. Just what _were_ these feelings? Until now, Pistachio had assumed it was nothing more than admiration — indeed, she had incorporated a few of White Choco’s techniques in her own training. But now…?  
  
Her frown deepened. _I don’t have the time for_ romance! _My work is too important._  
  
She turned over and closed her eyes again, hoping to put the issue to rest.  
  
But, failing to keep White Choco from her thoughts as she fell back asleep, Pistachio soon realized that these kind of feelings weren’t so easy to dispel.

 

* * *

 

The very idea seemed foolish, and a potential waste of time, but out of all the Cookies who had joined their ranks, Cotton Candy Cookie seemed to be the most knowledgeable about everything having to do with romance. If there was any Cookie she could talk to about these feelings she was having, it had to be her.  
  
Reaching her house, Pistachio gave a light knock on the door.  
  
“Ah! Coming!” a high-pitched voice replied on the other side of the door, and it promptly opened. Once she had caught sight of who was waiting on the other side, she let out a soft gasp. “Pistachio Cookie! How nice to see you! What brings you here? Ooh, did you get my letter?!”  
  
Pistachio smiled. “I did, thank you. It was very nice. But, that’s not what I’m here for.”  
  
“Oh?” Cotton Candy said, her candy floss hair bobbing as she tilted her head sightly.  
  
“May I come in?”  
  
The smaller Cookie perked up in an instant. “Oh! Of course!” She stepped back, letting Pistachio enter. “Forgive the mess,” she giggled.  
  
Pistachio stepped into the modest house, finding the interior just as bright, soft, and cheerful as Cotton Candy herself was, pastel colors and cute plush animals abounded. Her pet chirped from a perch near the door. She noted a sizable pile of crumpled up paper in the corner near a writing desk, but discreetly overlooked it.  
  
“You can sit here!” Cotton Candy said, pointing to a cushioned pink desk chair. She sat down upon her absurdly-fluffy bed, which was steps away from the writing desk — no doubt positioned that way on purpose, in case of any late night or early morning inspiration.  
  
Pistachio couldn’t say she had ever been in a space with this much concentrated _cuteness_ before — it was a bit overwhelming. But she pressed on.  
  
“So, what brings you here?” Cotton Candy asked first.  
  
“Well, there’s something I want to ask you about. Regarding a subject I think you’d know best.”  
  
Cotton Candy’s eyebrows lifted in surprise. “Me? Oh goodness! What could you want to learn from me?”  
  
Pistachio sighed softly, thinking on her answer. “About how to handle… romantic feelings.”  
  
Cotton Candy gasped, standing up. “You have romantic feelings for someone, Pistachio?! That’s wonderful!” She got back on the bed, now lying across it with her stockinged legs kicking in midair as she cupped her face in her hands. “What are they like?”  
  
Pistachio cleared her throat, willing the warmth from her face. “That’s… not important right now. See… I feel kind of lost. I’ve never had feelings like this before. I don’t know what to do with them.” She clasped her hands in her lap. “Normally with any other unwanted feeling, I can push it aside and focus on my work. This… is different. I’m having a more and more difficult time keeping her from my thoughts, even my dreams…” She shook her head. “From what I’ve heard, you’re the most romantic Cookie of anyone here, and develop those kinds of feelings easily. So, I thought you would know best. How… do I deal with these feelings?”  
  
Cotton Candy smiled warmly. “I know what you’re talking about. I used to be like you, having all kinds of feelings but not knowing what to do with them all. Then, I started writing letters.”  
  
“So… getting your feelings out in writing helped to quell them?” Pistachio asked.  
  
“At first it did! But, then the letters started to pile up! I was writing them, but not _sending_ them. A friend told me that just writing my feelings down would help, but… if I kept the letters, it still felt like I was keeping those feelings to myself. And the Cookies I had feelings for wouldn’t know at all. See, feelings like that are more than just liking someone… it’s _love._ And feelings of love don’t go away so easily!”  
  
Pistachio blinked. _Love?! I… suppose that makes sense, but…  
  
_“Love is different from all other feelings. It _has_ to be shared. That way, you’ll know if they feel the same way about you! And if they don’t, that’s okay! At least they’ll know that there’s some Cookie out there who cares about them. When I started sending my letters, I felt like there was a weight lifted off of me at last — like I could fly! And I’ve been happier ever since,” Cotton Candy said with a happy sigh.  
  
“Anyway!” she continued. “You should tell her how you feel! I bet you won’t even have to send a letter — you don’t look like the shy type.”  
  
_You would think differently if you saw me at the training fields…_ Pistachio thought bitterly. “You… might be surprised…” she admitted. “The thought of telling her… scares me. I’m not used to being so… vulnerable. What if she thinks it’s strange? What if she doesn’t feel the same way?”  
  
“It’s okay! It might hurt, but even if she doesn’t return your feelings, that doesn’t mean you can’t find anyone else to love! Someone else might be even better for you, _and_ feel the same way! It’s better to know how the other Cookie feels than not to know at all. Not knowing is just terrible! That’s why I send letters!”  
  
“You do send a lot of letters,” Pistachio quipped with a slanted smile.  
  
“That’s because there’s something to love about _all_ the Cookies!” Cotton Candy smiled. “...That, and I’m really indecisive,” she said with a nervous giggle.  
  
_I can see that,_ Pistachio thought, peering at Cotton Candy’s pile of discarded letters. She thought she could spot faint evidence of a wastebasket buried inside the mound. “...Have you ever had your feelings rejected before, Cotton Candy?”  
  
Cotton Candy deflated a little. “A few times, yes… but they thanked me for the letter, at least. Most of the time I get kind replies that are so sweet, but they don’t seem to feel the same way that I do. But I can tell that my letter brightened their day! So, it’s all right. I’ll keep on trying!”  
  
Pistachio smiled sincerely. “I hope someone returns your feelings in earnest someday, Cotton Candy.”  
  
Cotton Candy lit up like a sunbeam. “I hope so too!” she said with a giggle. “I’m looking forward to it!”  
  
Pistachio nodded, then stood. “I have to thank you. You gave really good advice. I’ll definitely give this some more thought.”  
  
Cotton Candy sat up in her bed. “You’re welcome! I’m so glad you decided to come to me with this! You have my word that I’ll keep your secret safe and sound,” she said, miming a zipper motion across her mouth.  
  
Pistachio let out a small giggle. “But I didn’t tell you who I have feelings for.”  
  
“Oh! Well, you can tell me, if you want.”  
  
Pistachio hesitated for a moment, then decided she could trust her. “...White Choco.”  
  
Cotton Candy’s eyes widened. “Ohhh!! I can see why! She’s amazing,” she said in a dreamy voice. “And she replied to me with the sweetest letter. I swooned on the spot!”  
  
Pistachio let out a light chuckle. “I should be going now.”  
  
“Ah, of course! I’m sure you have a lot of work to do. Good luck with White Choco!!”  
  
Pistachio nodded. “Thank you.”  
  
She gave the Cotton Candy Bird a pet, it cooing softly, then she walked out the door, shutting it gently behind her. She stood there for a moment, then sighed. She looked up at the sky, blue and filled with puffy white clouds.  
  
_Share my feelings… I suppose there’s no way around it, huh.  
__  
_

* * *

_  
  
_Pistachio soon found that that task was much easier said than done.  
  
She continued to watch White Choco’s training sessions, but whenever the opportunity to reveal her feelings would present itself — at the end of White Choco’s session — suddenly her typical bravery drained from her, nerves and fear causing her throat to tighten, the barrage of ‘what-if’s in her mind driving her to dash away every time.  
  
It was embarrassing.  
  
Eventually it got to the point where Pistachio wondered if she should even bother White Choco with it at all, and just quietly, humbly pine for her instead — Sea Fairy certainly had pining down to an art by now. Perhaps her next move should be to ask her how she does it.  
  
She didn’t get the chance to, however — for the arrival of two new Cookies to their group quickly threw her daily routine into a tailspin.  
  
Purple Yam Cookie and Milk Cookie arrived as a pair, having journeyed on foot together through the wilderness. Purple Yam seemed to have only one mission in his one-track mind — finding Dark Choco Cookie and settling some kind of score with them — while Milk was more patient, just wanting more Cookies to join his guild, though he wanted to see Dark Choco as well.  
  
Dark Choco was absent at the moment — likely having wandered off somewhere again to brood — so in the meantime, Pistachio and her fellow Cookies helped to placate them and show them around their land.  
  
The two could often be a handful, and Pistachio worried that she might have to be the one to rein in Purple Yam’s temper. But to her surprise, Milk handled him better than she had expected from the soft-hearted Cookie at first. Perhaps they had formed an unexpected bond during their journey.  
  
One night she and the other Cookies who had decided to join Milk’s guild decided to pay a visit to Sparkling Cookie’s bar and restaurant, Scintillate. It was decided from the get-go that Milk would serve as their designated driver.  
  
“I won’t be drinking either, of course!” Wizard Cookie declared as they walked to the entrance.  
  
“Then why aren’t YOU the designated driver?” Purple Yam asked.  
  
“Because I’m too short to reach the pedals!” Wizard replied with a flustered frown.  
  
“Ah. Right.”  
  
They entered the bar, finding it as elegantly-decorated as always. They made their way to the bar itself, finding Sparkling himself behind it. “Welcome to Scintillate,” he greeted with a smile. “What can I get you?”  
  
“A glass of milk for me, please, if possible!” Milk replied. “I’m the designated driver.”  
  
“Of course,” Sparkling nodded, reaching into the small fridge behind the bar then grabbing a glass.  
  
“A Shirley Temple for me!” Wizard piped up.  
  
“With an extra cherry. I know,” Sparkling winked, serving the milk and readying another glass.  
  
“BEER!” Purple Yam exclaimed.  
  
“Any preference?” Sparkling asked.  
  
“NOPE!” Purple Yam replied, then elbowed Pistachio, who sat next to him, nearly knocking her off the tall barstool. “What are _you_ having?”  
  
“Nnnnn…” Pistachio groaned, her head slumped. Her mental energy was running low from spending the day with this group, her exhaustion catching up with her as soon as she sat down upon the barstool. Wizard and Milk she didn’t mind, but Purple Yam often wore her nerves thin with his boisterous attitude and frequent jabbing. He couldn’t get much of a reaction from the good-natured Milk anymore, so he often turned to Pistachio when he wanted to get a rise out of someone. Pistachio had since gotten wise to it, but he just kept trying.  
  
“Would you like some rosé wine?” Sparkling offered gently, leaning over to her.  
  
Pistachio lifted her head, her eyes meeting Sparkling’s. “I’ll have a beer too.”  
  
“YEAH!” Purple Yam exclaimed. “Now we’re talkin’!”  
  
Sparkling handed them their beers, and Pistachio began to sip hers, barely registering the bitter taste as she stared out across the bar, hearing Purple Yam regaling anyone who’d listen about the time he spent in “Hell” (talk of which Pistachio had learned to tune out after mentioning in passing for a _third_ time that many of the other Cookies had also evaded the oven).  
  
She isn’t quite sure _how,_ but in a short while one beer turned into three, and though she noticed that her usual filter and reservation were coming down, she could no longer fight it.  
  
“We’ve ALL been through Hell!” Pistachio exclaimed in a surly voice. Purple Yam’s face twisted in offense.  
  
“You don’t even KNOW! The flames were so HOT! I fought my way out for so LONG! I was SURE I would _die!”_ he shouted back.  
  
“Fine! I’ll give you that,” Pistachio responded. “You certainly seem to have lost a few brain cells as a result. You’re lucky Milk shares his extra ones with ya!”  
  
“H-hey!” Purple Yam said, caught off-guard. Milk beside him shook as he fought back laughter. “I don’t need him OR his brain!!”  
  
“I don’t think you would’ve made it through that wilderness without either,” Milk butt in quietly, chortling.  
  
Purple Yam whirled around to face Milk. “Hey…!!”  
  
Pistachio laughed too, leaving Purple Yam looking between the two, at a loss for words.  
  
He grumbled, then looked to Milk. “SAY, have you ever tried a White Russian?”  
  
“N-no?” Milk replied with a quizzical expression, still holding his glass of milk.  
  
“‘S GOOD! You should try one…”  
  
“No, Yam,” Pistachio interrupted. “He’s our de… desig… desigated… he’s our driver,” she got out with effort.  
  
Purple Yam turned to her. “Not even ONE?”  
  
“No, that’s the _rule,”_ Pistachio said. “He can’t be under… _any_ influence. At all.”  
  
“WELL, how do you know he hasn’t already had a drink, HUH?!” Purple Yam slurred.  
  
“I haven’t even finished this glass…” Milk said, more to himself than his drunken companions, who weren’t listening anyway.  
  
“Milk’s… a good Cookie,” Pistachio said, raising her hand. “He wouldn’t do that. He _promised.”  
  
_Purple Yam scoffed. “You wouldn’t even KNOW. You’ve been staring at White Choco this whole time!”  
  
Pistachio jolted. “I have?!” She looked in the direction she’d been staring blankly as she drank, and lo and behold, across the establishment sat White Choco, her back facing Pistachio as she chatted with her companions and fans at a round table.  
  
“I have…” she said softly.  
  
“What, you got a crush on her or somethin’?”  
  
Pistachio locked eyes with Purple Yam in a flash. “Who told you?!” she blurted in a loud whisper, before realizing that was _not_ what he said.  
  
Purple Yam laughed loudly. “You just did!”  
  
Pistachio felt her stomach fall. _I’m sorry I doubted you, Cotton Candy...  
  
_“Keep it down!” Wizard admonished Purple Yam, waving his wand in the air to get his taller companions’ attention. “If Pistachio wants to keep it a secret, don’t go telling everyone in this bar!”  
  
Purple Yam promptly ignored Wizard Cookie. “Go talk to her! She’s gonna catch you starin’ eventually!”  
  
Pistachio looked over at White Choco again, with intention this time. She spoke animatedly with her companions, laughing and clinking glasses with them.  
  
“-And the squirrel took off just like that! It didn’t know what hit ‘em!” she heard White Choco recount, her fans responding with laughter at her story.  
  
Milk frowned in concern. “Don’t listen to him. You don’t have to go over there, Pistachio,” he said with care.  
  
Pistachio didn’t respond, keeping her gaze fixed on White Choco’s table.  
  
“Here are your appetizers, ladies,” said the table’s waitress, Cherry Blossom Cookie, setting down a tray of food.  
  
White Choco looked to her, then reached out to lift a lock of her hair. “Mm, you smell delightful today.” _  
  
_Cherry Blossom paused and smiled at her. “I didn’t do anything different today though.”  
  
“It’s spring, is it not? Your scent is its most beautiful at this time of year, _cherie._ Embrace it.”  
  
Cherry Blossom blushed and giggled, while something twisted inside Pistachio in an alien feeling she could only describe as… _jealousy.  
  
_She remembered Cotton Candy’s words of advice to her: _Love is different from all other feelings. It_ has _to be shared. That way, you’ll know if they feel the same way about you!  
  
_Suddenly, she found that all her prior anxiety and apprehension had melted away. _Why was this so hard before? It’s easy. All I have to do is talk to her.  
  
_“...Nah. I’m goin’ over there,” Pistachio said with finality.  
  
Purple Yam whooped, while Milk and Wizard exchanged worried glances.  
  
Pistachio moved to step down from her bar stool — but she nearly stumbled, unsteady on her feet. “Oop, don’t think I can walk there,” she said, slipping back onto the stool.  
  
“Aww, come ON!” Purple Yam whined petulantly. “Talk to her!”  
  
“How?” Pistachio whined back.  
  
“Holler at ‘er! Tell her she’s HOT!”  
  
“Yam, please,” Milk pleaded.  
  
Pistachio meanwhile was taking a large swig of her beer, before she leaned back in her stool. “Hey, White Choco! White Choco!! I think you’re hot-”  
  
She was cut off, feeling herself tilting too far but being powerless to stop it. Before she knew it she had slipped off the stool and fallen right on her rear, the stool clattering loudly as it too toppled to the floor. After drawing attention to herself. In full view of all the bar’s patrons.  
  
Pistachio looked up, reluctantly, and saw White Choco looking in her direction.  
  
Mortified, Pistachio pushed herself off the floor with effort. If she could have ran out of there without making more of a fool of herself, she would have.  
  
“Are you okay, Pistachio?!” Milk said, having hurried to her side as soon as he could. “Here, let me help you up…”  
  
Pistachio groaned, letting Milk lift her to her feet and place her back on the righted stool.  
  
Purple Yam was guffawing, much to her chagrin. “You okay, P?”  
  
“Don’t… call me P…”  
  
“Are you hurt?” Milk asked, looking her over.  
  
“Just… my pride,” Pistachio got out, before collapsing onto the surface of the bar.  
  
Milk frowned down at her with worry, but his opportunity for further inquiries ended quickly.  
  
“Dark Choco…” Purple Yam seethed. “IS THAT YOU?!”  
  
Pistachio heard him stomp across the room, followed by Milk exclaiming, “Yam, no! That’s a lamp! _That’s a lamp!!”_ as he chased after him.  
  
She heard Wizard sigh. “I could have stayed home and studied magic…”  
  
“Sorry, Wizard…” Pistachio said, her voice partly muffled as she spoke into the bar’s surface. “This… was a mistake…”  
  
She felt herself dissociating, as she tried to become one with the wooden bartop in her embarrassment, neither moving nor lifting her head, getting sleepier by the second.  
  
Milk came back with Purple Yam in tow, sighing in exasperation. “You’re lucky I caught you! If you broke anything we would get kicked out for sure!” Milk scolded.  
  
“Maybe you guys should call it a night,” Sparkling suggested, concern evident in his voice.  
  
“Let’s just finish our drinks then-” Milk said, then paused. “...What is this? It tastes good…”  
  
“It’s _my_ White Russian,” said a disgruntled voice Pistachio didn’t recognize.  
  
“O- oh. Oh no, I’m so sorry,” Milk said. Pistachio heard a glass sliding over the bar’s surface. “...Oh no.”  
  
“What?” said Wizard.  
  
“I can’t drive now.”  
  
“NOOOO!!” Wizard exclaimed.  
  
After that, Pistachio’s consciousness winked out.

 

* * *

  
  
The next morning, Pistachio awoke to her alarm clock — and a throbbing headache.  
  
Turning off the alarm, she groaned and rolled over. Then her phone rang.  
  
She rolled back over, fumbling her hand over her nightstand until she found her phone.  
  
“Nnn… hello?”  
  
“Pistachio!” Wizard Cookie’s voice came through clearly. “I hope I didn’t wake you.”  
  
“Just woke up,” Pistachio replied, rolling onto her back to stare at her ceiling.  
  
“Ah, good. I just wanted to check on you. Milk would’ve called, but he’s looking after Purple Yam at the moment.”  
  
“What happened last night?” Pistachio asked groggily.  
  
Wizard sighed. “It was a mess. I don’t know how much you remember… but Milk accidentally drank someone’s alcohol. It wasn’t very much, but he still refused to drive us, ‘just in case’, he said,” Wizard’s irritation at that was evident in his voice. “So I had to call us a cab, _and_ call Kiwi Cookie to tow Milk’s car back to his house. Luckily Kiwi was one of the few Cookies who _wasn’t_ drinking last night.”  
  
“Why couldn’t Milk call them?” Pistachio wondered aloud.  
  
“He had his hands full already,” Wizard replied. “Purple Yam was trying to fight everyone and every _thing_ in sight. Milk managed to keep him from doing any major damage to Sparkling’s bar, even while he was carrying you.”  
  
Pistachio blinked. “Me?”  
  
“Oh, yeah, you passed out on the bar before we left, so Milk had to carry you out to the cab. He was still able to break up Purple Yam and Pirate’s brawl as he walked to the door with you in his arms, though. I was impressed.”  
  
A vision of herself draped across Milk’s thick arms in a princess-carry pose entered her mind’s eye. How embarrassing. She groaned softly. “Apologize to Milk for me. I should never have drank that much…”  
  
“I will,” Wizard said, then paused. “How are you feeling?”  
  
“Like I fell in a pit,” Pistachio said miserably.  
  
“Oh… I mean, since that fall and all,” Wizard corrected himself.  
  
“Fall… ?” Pistachio asked, then her memory of the rest of the night before came back in a sudden, nauseating rush. “Oh… oh, no…”  
  
White Choco, drinking with her friends and fans, minding her own business. Pistachio, making a royal fool of herself while trying to catch her attention.  
  
“Yeah…” Wizard said, a bit awkwardly. “We were all worried about you, but you said you were okay. Are you really, though?”  
  
“Mnn… now that you mention it, I’m a little sore… nothing I can’t recover from, though.” She deliberately focused only on the physical aspect of that disastrous moment.  
  
“...I’m sorry about White Choco. I’m really trying to give him the benefit of the doubt, but Purple Yam’s _really_ getting on my nerves. He shouldn’t have egged you on like that,” Wizard said, sounding ruffled.  
  
Something in Pistachio twinged painfully at the sound of White Choco’s name. She didn’t want to ask, but she had to. “Did she say anything?”  
  
“No,” Wizard replied, Pistachio feeling a small measure of relief instantly. “Everything was too chaotic after that, so I don’t think she could’ve said anything even if she wanted to. I don’t know her that well, but… I think she’d want to spare your feelings, either way.”  
  
“Thanks…” Pistachio said, not sure whether that made her feel better or worse.  
  
“Rest up today, okay?” Wizard said gently. “You don’t sound like you feel well.”  
  
“I don’t,” Pistachio said. “But, my duties…”  
  
“No! Rest!” Wizard said, sounding ruffled again. “You can’t be a good knight for us if you don’t take care of yourself!”  
  
“You’re sounding like Milk,” Pistachio joked.  
  
Wizard huffed. “Well, I like _him.”  
  
_“Too bad he’s part of a package deal,” Pistachio laughed softly.  
  
“True,” Wizard sighed. “Well, I’ll let you go, okay? I’m going to call Purple Yam next to give him a piece of my mind. Rest up! If I can get you anything, just give me a call, alright?”  
  
“Alright. Thank you, Wizard,” Pistachio said, then added, “Don’t be too hard on Purple Yam. I was at fault as well.”  
  
Wizard sighed again. “If you say so…” he said with reluctance. “Well, talk to you later.”  
  
Pistachio hung up the phone, then rolled back over. She pulled the covers over her head, blocking out the light from her window, and the world in general.  
  
_What have I done…  
_

* * *

 

The next day, Pistachio felt well enough to return to her patrol. But this time, she changed her course again — to one where she would miss White Choco’s training routine entirely.  
  
Not only because of her desire not to face that Cookie after her embarrassing stunt the night before last — she had come to a decision.  
  
_I can’t keep doing this. It’s taken up too much of my time and energy already. Trying to face it… was a disaster. So there’s only one thing I can do. Just focus on my work, and try to put this whole foolishness out of my mind for good.  
  
_She marched ahead, focusing on scanning her route for anything unusual or out-of-place, passing by the other Cookies’ training sites.  
  
_...Besides,_ she thought, unable to keep her mind from wandering back to the subject, _it’s not likely that she would return my feelings anyway. She has countless adoring fans vying for her affections, she could have her pick of any of them-  
  
_Bump.  
  
Pistachio had taken her eyes off her own path for a moment too long, and bumped into something… or rather, some _one.  
  
_She looked up. “Ah, I’m-”  
  
For a second she swore her heart stopped.  
  
The smiling face of White Choco looked back at her. “There you are.”  
  
On impulse Pistachio sprang backward with an unflattering yelp. “I- I, I have to go-”  
  
“Wait!” White Choco moved fast, putting her arm up to block Pistachio’s path before she could dash away. “Don’t run off. I want to talk to you.”  
  
Pistachio met her eyes reluctantly. In them she found sincerity, with no trace of humor or malice.  
  
Pistachio eased, loosening the tension from her limbs. _I suppose I do owe her an explanation. Fine, then. I can settle this for good.  
  
_“...Alright. What do you want to talk about?”  
  
“Let’s go to my training ground,” White Choco said. “We might get into other Cookies’ way if we stand here,” she added with a little smirk.  
  
The sight of that smirk made something in Pistachio do flips.  
  
_This might be harder than I expected.  
  
_“R-right.”  
  
They walked together, side-by-side, toward the training grounds in silence. Other Cookies who passed them by glanced at the two, some with raised eyebrows, but continued on their way regardless.  
  
Pistachio stared ahead, keeping her gaze locked in place to keep her eyes from wandering to the Cookie beside her. But, wander they did, out of irresistible curiosity, and for a few seconds she took in the side profile of White Choco, her cropped off-white hair bouncing with her stride. Suddenly White Choco’s head turned, and their eyes met for a brief moment, before Pistachio broke contact, looking ahead of them again as she willed the blush from her face.  
  
They arrived at the training ground soon after — White Choco sat down upon the stone stairs that lead down to it, and motioned for Pistachio to sit down beside her. Pistachio swallowed, eying how close they would be if she sat where White Choco wanted her to. Then she sat down, and they were silent for a moment.  
  
White Choco broke their silence first. “I looked all over for you. You’re good at making yourself scarce,” she smiled.  
  
Pistachio looked down, put her hands together in her lap. “I suppose I have been cowardly…” She sighed. “I apologize. For that, and… for what I did at Sparkling’s bar. I’m embarrassed by my actions, and I likely embarrassed you, as well,” she squeezed her hands together. “I’m sorry.”  
  
White Choco looked at her with a kind smile. “I appreciate that, but you don’t have to apologize. We all do crazy things when we’re drunk,” she said with a wave of her hand.  
  
_I don’t have to apologize? Then why did she…?  
  
_“Well,” Pistachio began, somewhat haughtily, “then you should know that I didn’t mean anything by what I said.” She crossed her arms and stared straight ahead, not looking at White Choco.  
  
There was a short pause, and then: “Oh, really? Then you don’t think I’m hot?”  
  
Pistachio spluttered, coughing as she tried to form words. “I-I, I m-mean-”  
  
White Choco cut her off with a delicate laugh. “Listen. I have dozens of fans who’ll follow me wherever I go, and hang on my every word. Why, I bet even a few of them would take one of my scabbards or steal my socks if they had the chance to.”  
  
_Steal her socks?_ Pistachio thought with confused disgust. _Nevermind that. It sounds like she’s letting me down easy. That’s good… right?  
  
_“Whenever I finish a training session, there’s always a cheering crowd awaiting me, with flowers and gifts, and various things for me to sign. Everyone always stays until I’ve left the field. There’s no shortage of Cookies willing to throw themselves at me at any time.”  
  
Pistachio let out a silent breath, feeling herself deflating a bit. _If this is what I wanted to hear, why does it feel so bad?  
  
_“...But, one who runs away? _That’s_ unusual.”  
  
Pistachio froze.  
  
White Choco leaned back in her seat casually. “Sometimes I would just barely catch a glimpse of them, they were going so fast, but I knew it had to be _someone._ And, it made me curious. Of all these Cookies, who would stay to watch me train, but run away so quickly at the end, without even a hello?” She looked upward then, her eyes on the clouds. “It intrigued me, too. Were they shy? Scared? I couldn’t tell, and by the time I finished my training, it was too late to catch them — in seconds they were long gone. But, even though it was impossible, I had to know. Cookies who chase me are a dime a dozen, but Cookies _I_ have to chase? Now that’s exciting,” she smiled, a twinkle in her eye.  
  
Pistachio swallowed. _Has she figured it out…?  
  
_“So when you did what you did last night, I wondered if it had been you all along, if you were my mystery admirer. I wanted to say something, but I knew it wasn’t the right time — I would’ve only embarrassed you more. When I didn’t see anyone running away from my training field yesterday or today, I knew it had to be related. I asked around, and the Cookies I asked said you were still patrolling, but that you had changed your route. So, I just walked in the opposite direction of where they had pointed, and… here I am.”  
  
Pistachio clasped her hands together, breathing deeply and willing her racing heart to slow. She couldn’t speak, not yet.  
  
White Choco looked downward again, lolling her head to look at Pistachio. “Well? Have I gotten it right? Or am I wrong?”  
  
The thought of lying crossed Pistachio’s mind, but her conscience wouldn’t allow it. Not only that, White Choco would likely see through it with ease.  
  
“You’re not… wrong,” she replied in a low voice, not meeting White Choco’s eyes.  
  
“I knew it,” White Choco said, sounding delighted. She leaned closer. “So, what’s the truth? Why did you run away all those times?”  
  
“I…” This was it. She couldn’t lie now, nor clam up. She knew deep down, that this would never be resolved unless she truly faced it.  
  
“I wasn’t scared. Shy… perhaps. I saw one of your training sessions while I was on my patrol route, and came closer to make sure your crowd remained civil. But then I saw… you. Your skill, your speed, your grace… it was mesmerizing. I couldn’t look away. At the end I ran away, because I had to get back on my route, but also… because it was so unlike me. I’m not a, _fangirl,”_ she said with a soft sneer, “I’m a Cookie with a mission I’ve dedicated my life to. My actions… embarrassed me. But… I couldn’t keep myself away, either. I changed my patrol schedule and route so I’d never miss one of your practices, and I excused it by telling myself that it was to monitor your crowd. But… my eyes never lingered on them for long. Every time… I watched you and you alone.”  
  
White Choco smiled. “I see. I’m glad you’ve liked my performances so much, even if you couldn’t admit it to yourself.”  
  
“...There’s more,” Pistachio said with a soft frown. “During that time, before I realized it, I developed… feelings for you,” she squeezed her hands tight, bracing herself for whatever would come next. “Whether it’s fondness, a crush, or love, I don’t know… but even when I’m not watching you, I think about you… I don’t know what to do with these feelings,” she shook her head. “They’re so distracting, but I can’t make them go away no matter how hard I try, no matter how many times I tell myself it can’t happen, it shouldn’t happen, I-”  
  
She was cut off when she felt a hand place itself atop her own. She opened her eyes, and saw White Choco’s hand there. She looked up at her with widened eyes.  
  
White Choco smiled softly, reached her other hand out to wipe away a stray tear that Pistachio hadn’t realized was there. “Well, I must say, I’m kind of crazy about you too.”  
  
Pistachio’s mouth dropped open. “...Huh?”  
  
White Choco laughed softly. “I mean it. Even though I didn’t know who you were until now, you’ve been on my mind a lot too. A lot of Cookies want to woo me, to make me theirs. I haven’t met a Cookie that _I_ had to pursue. Honestly, I’ve been smitten by that,” she said, with a dreamy look in her eyes.  
  
Pistachio looked downward. “Well, was I worth the chase?”  
  
She felt a touch at the side of her face, lifting it upward. She met White Choco’s warm eyes.  
  
White Choco leaned in. “Definitely.”  
  
She closed the distance between them, all Pistachio’s thoughts vanishing from her mind as their lips met in a gentle, chaste kiss.  
  
White Choco pulled away to look at her. “Was that okay?”  
  
Pistachio simply stared for a moment, still unable to form a thought. It felt like time had stopped, just for a moment, when their lips met.  
  
Finally she got her brain to function again. “...Yeah.” She blinked, then shook her head. “I-I-I mean no! I’m sorry, but I cannot!” She moved to stand up.  
  
“Wait,” White Choco said, grabbing her hand. Pistachio looked back down at her, frustrated, but her politeness forced her to stay.  
  
“You don’t have to give up what’s important to you because you’re in a relationship with someone, you know,” White Choco said gently. “The right Cookie will be understanding of that. I certainly am.”  
  
Pistachio gave a little huff, but stayed silent.  
  
“You deserve happiness too, Pistachio. You shouldn’t have to sacrifice that for the sake of your life’s mission. In fact, you might be able to better serve your mission if you _do_ allow yourself to be happy now and then. If you truly do have feelings for me… can’t we just try? It doesn’t have to be forever. If it doesn’t work out, at least we took the chance instead of wondering ‘what if’.”  
  
Pistachio pouted, a little bit. She had a point. “...What would we even do? Go on… _dates?”  
  
_“If you want to. We can do anything,” White Choco said with a little shrug. “We could train together. Or, I could visit your house. Or… you could visit mine.”  
  
Pistachio’s eyebrows raised. Training together… seeing what White Choco’s house looked like… she couldn’t help but be interested in both.  
  
Then White Choco smirked. “Or we could go drinking at Sparking’s bar together.”  
  
Pistachio grimaced, looking away. “I’m not drinking again for a _while.”  
  
_White Choco laughed. “Understandable. We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do. We don’t even have to call it dating. It can be just us spending time together, and seeing where it goes from there. So, what do you say?”  
  
When she put it that way… Pistachio couldn’t find a reason to say no. She eased, then sat back down with a small sigh. “...Alright. I can agree to that. So, where shall we start?”  
  
White Choco released her grip from Pistachio’s wrist — then clasped her hand in hers.  
  
“We can hold hands?” she offered, meeting Pistachio’s eyes.  
  
Pistachio looked down at their joined hands, felt the warmth between them.  
  
“...Fine,” she said, relaxing for a moment, then she jolted. “Wait! My patrol-”  
  
“It’s fine,” White Choco reassured, “I came through the opposite direction of you when I was looking for you, and I didn’t see anything unusual. C’mon, allow yourself to relax for a moment.”  
  
Pistachio gave a little ‘hmph’ at that.  
  
“We can patrol together when we’re done, how does that sound?” White Choco offered.  
  
Pistachio’s eyebrows raised, imagining the two of them working together, side-by-side, lending one another their strength. “...Good, actually.”  
  
“Then it’s settled,” White Choco smiled.  
  
They were silent for a moment, holding hands — White Choco’s posture was relaxed, but Pistachio’s stayed rigid and at alert, glancing over her shoulder every few seconds. White Choco sighed, then reached forward with her free hand.  
  
“Your hair’s so beautiful, and soft,” she said, stroking Pistachio’s long locks. “I’ve admired it since I met you, to be honest. I don’t know how you do it, keep your hair this long and beautiful while you work so hard. I couldn’t do it.”  
  
Pistachio perked in surprise at the touch, then eased into it instinctually. “Nnn,” she uttered; no one had ever touched her hair like this, other than herself. “Thank you… Keep doing that…”  
  
“Oh?” White Choco said in a coy tone.  
  
“It feels nice…” Pistachio replied, in a hazy voice.  
  
White Choco gave a little laugh, but continued stroking Pistachio’s hair. “I think you’re going to like having a girlfriend,” she whispered, with an air of confidence.  
  
Pistachio wanted to rebuff her for getting ahead of herself, but as she leaned into White Choco’s touch, feeling herself relaxing for the first time in she couldn’t remember how long, she started to believe, if only in her heart… that White Choco might be right.  
  
And maybe… love wouldn’t be the worst thing that could happen.

 


End file.
